


devil with a halo

by lostcauses (voidoceans)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Abused Stiles, Kitsune Stiles, Light BDSM, M/M, Rape Roleplay, Slight feminization, hooker stiles, manipulation galore, stiles is the yummy piece of cheese and derek is the rat
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-16 10:11:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13051905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voidoceans/pseuds/lostcauses
Summary: Derek returns to Beacon Hills with the sole purpose of finding his missing Uncle, but he ends up getting sidetracked when he meets Stiles, a fiery hooker who puts Derek through the wringer.





	1. ever seen a devil with a halo?

_I'm sorry but the person you called has a voicemail box that has not been setup ye-_ "Shit!" Derek hangs up and pockets his phone, then gets back into his car. He's not sure why he even bothers anymore, trying to get in touch with his Uncle Peter, when each and every effort he's made to reach out has been skillfully evaded by the former alpha. Is he still so resentful that Derek has built his own pack in New York since obtaining that precious title? Derek had offered him a place to stay in his new loft in Manhattan, but the older man had swiftly rejected the proposal. Too proud for his own good. 

_What could possibly be keeping Peter in Beacon Hills?_ Derek thinks to himself as he zooms past the city's limits. It's been over a year since he's left this godforsaken town. He had vowed to himself that he would never return, but Peter's silence has concerned him, and now he finds himself driving back through the inferno. 

Derek turns on familiar streets, passes childhood landmarks he can't seem to forget, and feels his stomach churning uncomfortably. He's going back home, or what's left of it. The fire that had been set nearly a decade ago, the fire set by hunters, had destroyed everything - his entire family. Except Peter. 

The Camaro's tires crunch loudly against the gravel and leaves as Derek drives up the steep hill, past the broken up iron gate that use to guard something so grand. Instead of the stately Hale Manor, an estate made of bricks and columns surrounded by lush vegetation, Derek is met with a burnt shell of what once was. It's barely functional, there is no way Peter could be living within the charred remains of their beautiful home, but Derek knows this is the first place to look. 

He steps out of the car and gives his surroundings a quick once-over. There's nothing but the sounds of birds and critters rustling through the forest that encases the estate. 

Derek takes his first step forward but is stopped in his tracks, the hair on his neck standing up straight and goosebumps peppering his exposed skin. It's not the cold, dry December air that's causing him to shiver - there's someone here. No, there's two people. None of them are Peter. And they're both supernatural. 

Derek extends his claws and bares his teeth, emitting a low growl, ready for whatever comes out that front door. He can smell them getting closer and can hear the hurried footsteps, one of them is in panic, the other is predatory. He plants his feet into the ground and bends his knees into a slight crouch, prepared to pounce.

A minute or so goes by and Derek begins to feel silly, standing like that, but just as he begins to relax his stance the front door slams open, and a young man runs out. He doesn't seem to notice Derek and he's about to run right past him but the Alpha quickly snatches the youth by his upper bicep in a vice-like grip. 

"FUCK!" The mysterious creature, who looks human, hollers in pain. He tries to pull out of Derek's grasp, giving away that he is not strong enough to be a wolf, but fails to loosen the tight grip on his arm. "Let me go, you fuck!" He tries kicking out, aiming right for Derek's crotch, but the older man easily dodges his attempts. 

"What were you doing in there? What's going on?" Derek interrogates the boy coldly, ignoring his struggles. 

"Who the fuck are you to ask? Just let me go before he ge-" 

A loud, boisterous laugh cuts through the air and Derek is slightly startled, surprised he didn't sense the big, fat man standing on the porch before them. This man must be in his mid to late forties, and he smells like a wolf, a beta to be precise. Derek feels relief wash over him. He knows how to handle betas, no matter how big they are. 

"Thanks man, if you hand him over and let me finish, I can convince him to give you a quickie for half off," the fat man gloats as he steps down towards them. "He's a handful, but when met with a heavy hand he falls in line pretty easily."

Derek is immediately brought up to speed with what is going on here: The non-wolf boy is a prostitute, and the old beta must be his pimp or paying customer. 

Before he could speak, his wild captive snarls viciously, "Fuck you, Lars! You ain't shit, you can't sell me out acting like you're my damn pimp without Vito finding out! And you don't deserve to _finish_ after you fuCKING PUNCHED ME IN THE FACE!" 

Well that answered Derek's previous question, but what he really wants to know is what the hell gave these two the right to do business in his home? 

Lars lunges forward with clear intent of grabbing the boy from Derek, but the alpha smoothly steps to the side, yanking the boy with him. "You guys need to take care of this somewhere else, this is private property," he says sternly, as if he's speaking to his own pack.

At this, the kid snorts. " _Whose_ private property? No one fucking lives here, they haven't for years...can't you see?" He waves his free arm around.

Lars is eyeing Derek suspiciously. "What business do you have here?" He asks, his eyes now glowing a harsh blue. 

Derek straightens up and bares his teeth yet again, he knows his eyes glow red when he speaks. "I'm Derek Hale, this is _my_ property, _my_ home...you two crossed through here _illegally_ , and if you don't leave _now_...I'm going to make you regret this failed transaction ever took place," he finishes his threat with a low growl and Lars begins to back off, his eyes now faded to a dull looking grey. 

"A Hale? My apologies," he says, not sounding the least bit apologetic, "hand over the brat and you'll never see our faces around here again." 

The struggling resumes but Derek doesn't let go. "I'll give him to you if you tell me where Peter Hale is," he says. 

Lars huffs impatiently, "I haven't seen that bastard in years, I just moved back to town five months ago. I'm a newborn beta, the pack I was alpha to died out, I had no choice but to come back here and join a new pack. I know nothing about anything, especially concerning your fucked up family. Now give me my-"

"I've seen Peter Hale," the boy says quickly. Derek and Lars both turn to him, surprised. "I'll tell you where if you make sure this fat fuck leaves me alone."

Lars growls and lunges forward but Derek kicks him square in the chest, and the corpulent beta falls on his back in the dirt. 

"Done," Derek says casually. 

The kid tries to wriggle free again, but Derek shakes him still. He then addresses the pathetic heap of beta below him. "Leave and never come back here, don't bother this boy again, unless you take it up with his pimp, however - I don't believe he'll want you fucking with his merchandise once he gets a good look at this face," Derek gestures towards the crimson bruise blossoming on the boy's cheek. 

Lars glares hatefully at the both of them, but he gets up and dusts himself off. Before he leaves, he calls over his shoulder, "You're lucky you weren't dealing with me in my prime, Hale. I would have skewered you." 

Derek ignores him and watches his fading figure, making sure he's gone completely before he turns back to his captive. He didn't have a chance to get a good look at him when dealing with Lars, but now he's able to fully assess the boy in his possession. He manhandles the younger man around so he's standing in front of him, ready for viewing.

 _I see what all the fuss was about_ , Derek ponders as his eyes scan the pretty face before him; big brown eyes framed by the blackness of his lashes make for a striking contrast against the soft, ivory skin. The boy has a ski slope nose and a cupid bow's mouth, managing a perfect balance of verging manhood and understated femininity. 

Derek feels a stir in his groin the longer he examines the boy's face, his eyes slide down to his neck and he sees a large leather collar fit snug around smooth skin, a tag nearly touching the clavicle. 

The staring is causing discomfort in the pretty faced boy, he fidgets and moans impatiently. "Let me go," he hisses through clenched teeth.

Derek looks at the tag and sees etched in big bold letters the name **STILES**.

"Is this your name?" Derek asks, running a thumb over the cold metal of the tag. 

"Yes," the kid named Stiles says again through gritted teeth. "Will you let me the fuck go now?"

Derek's green eyes meet Stiles' brown, he raises his brow slightly. "Where is Peter hale?" He asks. 

Stiles licks his chapped lips nervously, but he keeps the eye contact steady. "You expect me to tell you without some sort of payment?" 

Derek snorts at this, "Me saving your life wasn't enough?" 

"You didn't save my life," Stiles laughs coldly, "you actually ruined our transaction-"

Derek interrupts, "You were running from him, you were scared...I could smell your fear and hear your heartbeat..."

Stiles shakes his head. "We were _roleplaying_ ," he says with slight exasperation. "At least, we were until he took it too far and decided to bruise my goddamn face, so yeah, maybe I was scared and okay... _thank you_ for getting rid of him for me but now I'm out $200." 

Derek stares at him in bewilderment. "Roleplaying?" He feels ridiculous not knowing what any of this means. 

Stiles lowers his eyes, seemingly embarrassed. "Uh, yeah, it's like my specialty. Most of my customers like to roleplay, they pretend that I'm their victim or whatever. It's acting, sometimes they get a little crazy but they're not allowed to actually hurt me." 

Derek nods his head slowly, understanding now, but he's not going to let Stiles get away so easily. "You know what? I just came into town moments before I saved your ass. I'm tired and frustrated, I could blow off some steam. How about I take you back to my place and we make a deal? You'll get your money and I'll get my question answered and then some," Derek says with a pointed smirk. 

Stiles gives him a dirty look but he shrugs obligingly. "Sure," he says quietly. 

Derek grins, feeling excitement boil inside him. His first night back in Beacon Hell and he gets to bed a hot hooker? Derek is feeling unusually fortunate.

~ 

The ride to Derek's loft was awkward and quiet. Stiles stared out the window the whole time, his forehead pressed up against the glass. Every now and then Derek would sneak a look at him, but the kid didn't move at all.

It took about twenty minutes to get to the apartment complex. Derek's loft was on the top floor. He was surprised to find himself happy to be back, he had bought this place after the fire - him and Peter roomed together and he even opened it up to his first two betas, Scott and Isaac. There are lots of good memories associated with his first home away from home, but also bad ones. Memories of death. 

Now, he's looking forward to collapsing on his king size bed with the lean, sexy boy in the passenger seat. When Derek pulls into his parking spot, he turns off the ignition and leans over and unbuckles Stiles' seatbelt, his fingers lingering on the exposed skin near his collarbone. Stiles stiffens at the touch but follows Derek's lead and gets out of the Camaro.

The elevator ride to the top floor is even more unpleasant than the car ride, Stiles is huddled in the furtherest corner away from Derek, picking at this nails and maintaining a bored expression. Derek doesn't really mind, all he wants is a nice fuck and Peter's whereabouts then he'd send the whore off. As beautiful as Stiles was, he didn't seem like a pleasant person to be around with.

When they get to the front door of Derek's loft, he finds himself nearly giddy with anticipation that it takes him a few minutes to find his key since his hands were beginning to tremble. He opens the door then shoves Stiles rather roughly inside. 

"Welcome to my humble abode," Derek sneers, he turns on the lights and watches as Stiles stands awkwardly in the middle of the entire loft, between the large leather sofa and the kitchen. He's got his arms wrapped around his body, he must be cold since all he's wearing is a muscle tank and skinny black jeans. 

"Are you cold?' Derek asks more out of curiosity than actual concern. 

Stiles furrows his brows and scrunches up his nose like Derek just asked the stupidest question. He shakes his head, "No," he says, "I never really get cold."

Derek steps into the kitchen and opens up the fridge, surprised but happy to find a few beers in there. He takes two out and offers one to Stiles, who shakes his head. "You're not a wolf," Derek says, taking a swig of his beer. "I can sense that, but what are you?" 

"A kitsune," Stiles says, sitting down on the couch. 

Derek chuckles, "Figures you're a fox." He watches Stiles' face burn with a mix of annoyance and anger. "What type of kitsune are you?" 

"A fire kitsune," Stiles grits out behind clenched teeth.

"Fitting," Derek says in amusement. "Okay Stiles, let's negotiate." He walks over to the couch and takes a seat next to the young man. "How much you charge for a nice, long fuck?" He puts a hand on Stiles' knee and squeezes, feeling his pants tighten around his crotch. Touching the boy's knee is getting him hard, he can't imagine how glorious it's going to be to actually explore his naked body. 

Stiles stares at him blankly. "$200 for a _nice, long fuck_ ," he mocks Derek's voice in a playful tone but there's hatred in his eyes. 

Derek takes his hand off Stiles' knee. "That's way too fucking much, what - is your hole coated with sugar?" 

Stiles glares at him, the color in his face nearly matching the hideous bruise on his cheek. "$200 for the full experience, what Lars was going to pay, $50 for a handjob, $80 for a blowjob, and $100 for a simple roleplay."

Derek chugs his beer completely then crushes the can in his hand, causing Stiles to flinch. "What do I get with a simple roleplay?" He asks.

"You get to choose the scenario - a student and teacher dynamic, a rapist and victim thing, alpha and beta - whatever you want. We act it out and you can touch me, undress me, even kiss me, but you can't fuck me. You can't even finger me. No penetration whatsoever," Stiles says all of this without looking Derek in the eye, it sounds like he's reading from a manual. 

Derek considers this for a moment; he'd very much like to fuck Stiles, and he's disappointed he won't get to experience that, but he's willing to settle for some silly ass roleplaying, as long as he gets to at least touch the boy he'll end up satisfied.

"I can do that," Derek grins. He stands up and grabs Stiles roughly by the bicep again then leads him across the room towards the massive bed that's set against the wall of windows overlooking the city. Derek lets go of Stiles then positions him so he's standing right in front of the bed, then Derek sits on the edge of the mattress so he's looking up at the lithe boy. 

"So I give you a script or do we just improvise?" He asks.

Stiles shrugs. "I normally improvise. What is the scenario?" 

Derek feigns contemplation but he already knows what he wants to do. "How old are you?" 

Stiles looks surprised from the sudden question. "I'm eighteen, don't worry, I wouldn't rat you out if I wasn't," He says with a smirk. It's the first time he actually looks close to happy. 

Derek nods his head slowly, then feels a smile sneak up on his lips. "Okay. Well, in my scenario you're sixteen. I kidnapped you, you're easy to lure in and I've taken you back to my place. I'm ready to fuck you senseless, but you're a virgin, and you're terrified of me. I want you to beg me not to take your virginity away from you, I want you to beg me to let you go and I want you to struggle against me as I hold you down and kiss you."

Stiles has his arms wrapped around his body again, and he looks slightly uncomfortable. Derek wonders if maybe he should have gone with his initial fantasy - the two of them are on their first date and Stiles wants Derek to take his virginity - but Derek is worried that Stiles might blab to the other werewolves he services that Derek is a big sissy who likes cuddling and pillowtalk. The kidnapper thing seems to be something Stiles is use to, as evidenced by him being in Lars' hold at the burnt down Hale Manor, which was supposed to serve as the evil kidnapper lair, Derek is guessing. 

"Okay," Stiles says quietly. "You have to start it off."

Derek feels himself growing harder by the minute, he's hoping he can get Stiles to suck him off as part of the deal. "On your knees," he commands.

Stiles tentatively drops to his knees, still hugging himself. He must be in character. 

"You be a good boy and come here, come here and sit on my lap," Derek growls. He watches as Stiles shakes his head. 

"No, plea-please let me go," he stutters softly, hugging himself tighter. "I just want to go home." 

"I'll consider letting you go home if you crawl towards me, on your hands and knees, then climb up here on my lap. How about that?" Derek leans back and pats his crotch, which is now hosting a considerable bulge. 

Stiles sniffles a bit but obeys the command, he crawls slowly and sexily towards Derek on his hands and knees, then places his hands on Derek's thighs, hoisting himself up and onto the older man's lap. Derek takes advantage of this new position and begins to grope every inch of Stiles' body he can get to. The fox boy is so warm, so soft and delectable Derek feels as if he's been given a great feast. 

He presses his mouth to Stiles's throat, just above the collar, and he nearly comes in his pants when he hears soft little whimpers and pleadings escaping from the boy's mouth. He has this sinful taste that Derek can't describe, like sweet rum and freshly caught prey. Derek's hands are roaming the skin under the muscle tank, pinching and tickling the torso and tummy area. He then slips his hands to Stiles' ass and gives it a hard squeeze, eliciting a yelp from that plush mouth. 

"Nice ass, nice and tight. I can't wait to fuck you hard and dry, no lube whatsoever for naughty little schoolboys, right?" Derek has to hold back laughter, he can't believe he's actually saying this shit, but Stiles seems to be keeping in character and that helps. 

"Please, I'm a virgin, I don't want to do this," Stiles pushes against Derek's chest, his face contorted in anguish. 

"Yes, I know, a sweet little virgin that I can't wait to ravish," Derek says, pressing another kiss against Stiles' neck. He then wraps a firm arm around Stiles' middle then turns them over so Stiles is laying on his back and Derek is looming over him. The alpha stares into the glistening brown eyes beneath him, he moves a lock of hair away from the boy's face and watches his pretty pink bottom lip tremble fearfully.

 _He's a good actor_ , Derek thought randomly. 

Derek leans forward and kisses those precious lips. He's surprised to feel after a few seconds Stiles kissing back, and he wonders if he should question it or just go along...he actually doesn't mind the consensual feeling behind the kiss. 

He pulls away and looks down to see Stiles breathing heavily, some of Derek's spit is dribbling down his chin. Derek gently wipes it off with the sleeve of his shirt, it's an almost affectionate gesture, and Stiles stares up at him quizzically, breaking character. 

Derek breaks his gaze and focuses on the body laid out before him. He slides the tank up, so Stiles' stomach is exposed, and he circles his finger around the navel watching in fascination as it heaves up and down from Stiles panting. 

"Maybe I should tie you up, make sure you can't get away," Derek says thoughtfully, more to himself. 

The panting suddenly stops and there's a stillness in the air, then an annoyed voice, "Bondage is $15 extra." 

Derek pushes himself off the bed so he's standing over Stiles, who then props himself up on his forearms, a defiant expression on his face. 

"Well we're done," Derek says, holding back his anger, that snark took him out of the mood but he wasn't at full erection yet so he can deal. "I got my taste, barely, but at least I got you on your knees." He smiles cruelly when he sees Stiles wince. "I was going to have you swallow my load but you're not worth the trouble, to be honest. I'll just jerk myself off to the image of you begging me not to take your imaginary virginity away. You're a good actor, by the way," Derek adds sarcastically.

"Thanks," Stiles rolls his eyes.

"You're welcome. Now tell me where the fuck Peter Hale is."

Stiles gulps audibly, but manages to maintain a cool composure. "I never said I know where Peter Hale is."

It takes a hot second for Derek to fully process what was just said, he stares at the whore he just slobbered all over, completely dumbfounded, then he feels the heat rise to his face, full of rage. He shoots his hand out and grabs a fistful of Stiles' hair, a yelp pierces through the air and the fox boy scratches desperately at Derek's fingers, trying to pry his grip off of him. 

Derek ignores the cries of pain and shakes Stiles' head. "Cut the shit, you said you know where he is, that was the part of the fucking deal - I save you from that loser, you play virgin, I pay you, you tell me where he is," Derek shakes his head again, this time more violently. "Didn't your pimp ever teach you about honor? Keeping your word?"

Stiles grimaces at the mention of 'pimp' and glares viciously into Derek's eyes. "I said I've _seen_ Peter Hale - which I have - and I can tell you where I _saw_ him, but I can't tell you where he is now."

Derek drops Stiles to the ground like he's trash and kicks at his side, earning another yelp from the boy. "You fucking little prick. You really are a kitsune, a trickster. I can't believe I wasted my time on you, I should have given you back to that fat piece of shit. I should have let him have his way with you."

Stiles rubs his head, ignoring Derek's hateful comment, he says, "Pay me my $100 and I'll tell you what I know."

Derek laughs humorlessly, "You must think I'm fucking stupid...you really think that's how it's gonna go? No. _You_ tell me what you know, then I pay you $80 for that half assed five minutes of foreplay, how about that? And even that's too generous."

Stiles gets up and crowds Derek's personal space, his feeble but brave attempt at intimidation. "You all but forced me to do this, I'm usually the one to offer my service, you practically blackmailed me. I deserve that $100," he spits that last sentence into Derek's face and for a second the alpha is ready to strike him for his insolence, but he knows deep down that the boy is somewhat right. He could have paid him a small fee for the information, but he got too greedy, too horny. 

"Okay," Derek says calmly. He pulls out his wallet from his back pocket and fishes out two $50 bills that he hands over to Stiles. "Now talk."

Stiles smiles faintly, something Derek wishes he would do more often, and pockets the money in his tight jeans. He then looks Derek square in his eye and talks, "I saw him at The Crowbar three months ago, he wanted me to spend the night with him, but my pimp wanted me back home early that night so I had to decline. He said that's fine, that he'll be there all week...apparently he's a regular. Hell, he might even be there right now, I haven't been back to that place since that night. That's all I know."

Derek nods his head slowly, taking it all in. _So Peter swung that way?_ He had no idea. What was he doing drinking at some hovel? Peter usually wines and dines himself at The Four Seasons' bar in hopes of picking up younger women. Derek listened to Stiles' heartbeat, to catch him lying, but it was as steady as a beating drum. 

"Can I leave now?" Stiles asks impatiently. "I was suppose to be home nearly an hour ago."

Derek wordlessly steps to the side and lets Stiles walk past him, towards the door. Before the boy steps out he stops, halfway out the door, "I hope you jerk off to the image of me ripping your dick off, how 'bout that for a fantasy?"

Then with the slam of the door he's gone. 

Derek stands still for what feels like hours, so dazed and out of his element with all that just happened. Not even a full day and he coerced the sexiest boy he's ever seen back to his loft for roleplaying, lost $100, and got a lead to where his Uncle might be. What a fucking trip.

~

That night, Derek jerks off to fantasies of Stiles cooking him dinner naked, joining him in the shower, then cuddling up against him after a night of great, consensual sex. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi. hey. thanks for taking the time to read the 1st chapter of this fic!! i appreciate it. 
> 
> quick note -
> 
> i know nothing of mythology - werewolves, kitsunes, etc...i know that teen wolf had a season with a family of kitsunes but i honestly stopped watching the show after 3b ? so i apologize if my inaccuracy bothers you. i imagine stiles being strong, but not strong enough to throw off a werewolf. this might not be an actual thing, but this is my interpretation. 
> 
> thanks again for reading :)


	2. i can be an angel sometimes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this kinda goes without saying but this is an AU and werewolves/supernatural are known, i'd even say that beacon hills is strictly a supernatural town. that's honestly up for interpretation since it's not integral to the story.

When Stiles sneaks in through the back door of the house and into the kitchen he’s surprised to find all the lights turned off. It’s obviously way past his curfew; when he had left Derek Hale’s apartment he was already late, so he thought, _fuck it_ , and decided to go out drinking and dancing with some lowlife junkies he just met on the street. He knows it's risky to break the curfew rule and he's actually very stupid to keep testing his limits when he's been punished so many times for doing so, but there are moments when Stiles needs some type of control and agency over his own life decisions. Being treated like a child and a pet constantly takes a toll on him, and he could never express that verbally so he rebels the best he can. 

His eyes try to adjust to the darkness as he scans the room, irritated as he's reminded that one of the worst things about being collared is not having any of his abilities; he'd be able to see and sense everything in this room if his powers weren't stifled by the thick leather choker wrapped around his neck. If it weren't for his abnormal body heat he'd feel more human than kitsune. 

Stiles breathes as slowly and quietly as he can, and he just stands in the middle of the kitchen, not sure what he should do next. He sleeps with his alpha, so he can't just climb into bed without waking him up; that's a risk Stiles _isn't_ willing to take it. He settles on the idea of sleeping in the spare room. 

After a few more minutes of awkwardly standing still, Stiles decides it's safe to move towards the stairs. 

"Stiles."

A deep voice rumbles from the shadows and Stiles freezes, feeling his heart drop straight to his ass. The light in the living room clicks on and reveals a tall, broad man leaning against the staircase. His cold black eyes set on Stiles, not at all matching the grim smile stretched on his lips. 

"Vito..." Stiles tries his best to steady his breathing because he does not want to give the impression that he's scared. Showing fear always makes it worse. 

The imposing alpha pushes himself off the staircase and slowly walks towards Stiles, making the slender teen feel very much like a prey being stalked by a predator. Stiles has this sudden urge to run but he forces himself to stand his ground; running also makes it worse. 

Vito stops in front of Stiles, standing so close Stiles could feel the radiating off of him. "You had fun?" His voice is cool and calm, somehow ten times more terrifying than when he's loud and explosive. He leans forward and inhales deeply, taking in Stiles' scent and chuckling softly when he catches the sharp smell of whiskey. "Night out on the town...drinking with your little friends? You meet any guys there? I know you weren't with Lars," his tone changes suddenly, it's laced with resentment. 

Stiles opens his mouth, ready to grovel. "Vito, I can explai-" He's cut short when Vito reaches out and grabs his face, his fingers digging painfully into Stiles' cheeks. His head is turned side to side and Vito examines his face closely, zeroing in on his bruised cheek. 

"Was this Lars or Derek Hale?" He asks quietly. Stiles is once again startled to his core; Lars must've gotten to him. 

"I-It was Lars," Stiles struggles to speak with his face being squished. "Didn't he tell you? He hit me and Dere-" He's cut off once again but this time by a harsh slap to the face, it stings so bad Stiles can almost taste blood. 

Vito moves his hand to Stiles' throat, squeezing it lightly, just above the collar. "He told me that you ran out of your appointment and straight into the arms of Derek _Hale_ ," he snarls, tightening his squeeze. 

Stiles reaches up instinctively to pry the hand off his neck, but Vito smacks him down. This doesn't stop Stiles from trying to defend himself though. "So he conveniently left out the part where he punched me in the face cause he tried to fuck my face without paying extra - and that I didn't _run_ into Derek's arms; he grabbed me and practically kidnapped me," he hisses indignantly. 

Vito stares hard into Stiles' eyes, assessing the information that was just given to him. "So you did sleep with him?" He asks, loosening his hold on Stiles' throat but still keeping his hand there. 

Stiles knows the only reason Vito is freaking out is because he didn't have control over the situation. He is perfectly fine with Stiles whoring himself out, he even encourages it - but only with men he's approved of, usually old and fat men; not handsome and stubbled visiting alphas who look like they just stepped out of a GQ photoshoot. He's threatened at the very idea of another alpha bedding his beloved pet. 

"No," Stiles stresses, "he wanted to know where his uncle is, I sorta tricked him...I made him think that I knew where but I really just wanted to get away from Lars. When I asked him for money in exchange for Peter's whereabouts, Derek, the fucking pervert, had me roleplay some half baked rape fantasy. That's all. I didn't even suck his dick." 

At this, Vito releases Stiles, and he immediately feels relief wash over him. The alpha continues to stare though, seemingly lost in deep thought. He finally speaks, "What did you tell him about his uncle?" 

"I didn't tell him everything, only that I saw him at some bar a few months ago," Stiles says. 

Vito slowly nods his head and that vindicates Stiles in a way. "Was Derek with anyone else or was he alone?" 

"He was all alone, I could've mistaken him for an omega if it weren't for the red eyes and the way he made Lars his bitch," Stiles jokes, hoping to ease the tension. 

"So you know where he lives?" Vito asks.

"Uh, yeah? I mean I can give you the street name-"

"No," Vito steps closer to Stiles again, invading his personal space, "I want _you_ to go back there and get close to him." 

Stiles' jaw literally drops...did he really just hear that right? "You want me to sleep with him?" He asks incredulously. He's not sure if this is some type of test or if Vito is developing a cuckold kink.

Vito shrugs passively, further shocking Stiles. "If you must. I just need you to get close to him; find out if he still has a pack, why he's here looking for Peter Hale, and what else he plans on doing here." 

"You think I can get all of that out of him?" Stiles stupidly challenges, but he knows better than Vito - Derek all but kicked him out of the apartment after their disastrous romp. There's no way in hell he's just going to open his door for Stiles and even if he did it'd be for a quickie at best, not a sit down interview about his fucking pack and uncle. 

Vito doesn't take the question as snark though, he smirks and reaches out again - this time to pet Stiles' face, which still causes the teen to flinch. "I believe you can be very persuasive," he says pointedly. His thumb slides over Stiles' bottom lip and he rubs it tenderly, his way of being affectionate. This is when Stiles does like being with Vito, when the face grabbings and throat squeezing dissolve into petting and gentle whispers. There was something that drew him to this man when he was fifteen, newly orphaned, and terrified of the world. He knows that deep down Vito cares, might even love, Stiles for more than just his body. 

"Come on," the alpha takes Stiles' hand and pulls him towards the stairs, "let's go to bed, I want to finish what Derek Hale started but wasn't man enough to do."

~ 

The following night Stiles finds himself out The Crowbar. He had gone to Derek's apartment and knocked on his door several times, and when he found that the alpha wasn't there, he decided to try his luck elsewhere. Stiles knows Derek is still looking for Peter because there is absolutely no way of him ever finding that man. He had promised Vito he won't let anything slip up, and he's good at keeping his word, but he's not quite sure how he's going to be able to drag this out. The only thing that'll keep Derek interested in Stiles is the prospect of finding Peter Hale, so he needs to figure out how to make himself instrumental in that mission. He'll try his hand at flirting, but in all honesty, he's beginning to doubt his own abilities after what happened last night.

Just as he suspected, he finds Derek sitting front and center at the bar, a few drinks splayed out in front of him. _He's probably been here for a while_ , Stiles thinks to himself, feeling slightly guilty. He watches his target from a distance, mustering up all his courage to walk over there and strike up a conversation. But his legs feel wobbly, and he's beginning to sweat around his armpits. _Why the hell am I so nervous?_

Stiles takes a deep breath and walks toward the bar, preparing a dialogue in his head. When he's behind Derek, he slides his hand up his broad back and sits down next to him. "Hey stranger," he says with a coy smile.

Derek looks at him, a far off look in his eye, and he doesn't seem to register who the fuck is next to him until he curls his lip in disgust and shakes Stiles' hand off of him. "What the fuck do you want?"

"I just want a drink, do you think you can spot me?" Stiles tries his best to mask his growing frustration.

"Fuck you," Derek says simply. He pulls out his wallet, clearly intending on paying for his own drinks and leaving. "You think you can play me like that? I'm not one of your pathetic johns, _Stiles_." 

"I never said you were," Stiles says, "I actually came here to apologize." 

Derek nearly drops his wallet from the double take he does when he hears this. "Apologize?" 

"Yeah, for last night," Stiles looks down at the bar countertop, trying to school his face. The last thing he wanted to do was apologize, since he didn't believe he did anything wrong, but he's gotta make Vito happy. "I shouldn't have tricked you about Peter, I know you must be concerned for him."

Derek nods his head slowly. "Yeah, I am. I asked the bartender if he's seen him, but he told me what you had said - last time he was here was a few months ago. I'm back to square one."

"Well, what if I told you that I might have more leads on where he might be," Stiles focuses on steadying his heartbeat as he meets Derek's green eyes. _He has very nice eyes._

Derek raises his eyebrows apprehensively. "I'm not sure I believe you."

"Look, I _do_ feel bad about last night, I kinda cheated you out of your money and that wasn't cool, especially after you saving me. So how about I give you a do over, for free, and that includes the full experience," Stiles watches Derek's face change from apprehensive to astonished. 

"I...I'm not sure I want a do over," he says with a slight laugh.

"Wow, you're really gonna pass on the chance of fucking me for free? And getting more leads on where your uncle is? It's a rare two-for-one special, Hale." 

Derek snorts at this but seems to consider the offer and after a minute or so of looking Stiles up and down he clears his throat. "Okay," he says, "I'm sold."

Stiles lets out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. _That was a lot easier than I thought it'd be._ "Alright, let's get the fuck outta here then and go back to your place," he takes Derek's hand, and goosebumps pepper his skin from the feel of his strong, calloused hand. "I myself want to get the full Derek Hale experience." 

Derek allows himself to be lead out the bar like a damn fool. "No tricks this time," he says almost playfully. 

"No tricks up this fox's sleeve," Stiles lies.

"No I really mean it," Derek insists, "I don't want to be cheated again, cause if you try and pull a stunt I really will have to tie you up." 

Stiles nearly rolls his eyes, _Derek is so not a kinkster._ Hopefully this night goes better than he expects it to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in future chapters we'll learn more about stiles' background (how he got to vito, his collar, his powers, etc) and there'll be more insight as to why vito's interested in derek. 
> 
> sorry this chapter is a little short, i wanted to write more but i feel like the next scene will be better written through derek's perspective. 
> 
> thanks again for reading!


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